


i'll eat you whole, i love you so

by liamneeson



Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Happy Ending, Headcanon, Injury Recovery, Secret Marriage, alvarez arc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-12
Updated: 2016-02-12
Packaged: 2018-05-19 21:42:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5981830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liamneeson/pseuds/liamneeson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Being with her the past few months had made him complacent to the concept of the two of them against everyone else, a quiet life spent in the seaside and all ties to the painful past forgotten as time ran. Plans were not his thing but he’d been thinking about forever with her for quite some time now.  And they could start that forever, even miles apart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i'll eat you whole, i love you so

**Author's Note:**

> This is me riding the tide of the "MIRAXUS GOT MARRIED IN SECRET!!!!!" slash "MIRAXUS DREYARS ON THE BRICK!!!!" chaos. This is a request from laxusdreyar on tumblr!!!!!

> **_me, unravelling before you_ **

Scene: A girl took a deep breath, her eyes sweeping her new scenery.  Her baggage was minimal and her clothes looked on the side of worn. She was alone, a surprising fact because she usually travelled with two more heads of white. Later she would reveal that she separated from her siblings to train a blood thirsty soul that her skin could barely cage.

Setting: A small town on the edge of Minstrel, near the shore and far from civilization. The girl had rented a tiny cottage with the last half of her jewels and it only took her three days to settle and banish the impulse to return to where her family was. Reaching a compromise with herself, she put up a framed picture of her siblings that had been too painful to look at but now served as some painful inspiration.

Plot: Undetermined. The girl was at the incline of her life and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to plunge to the depths or push forward. Since Fairy Tail disbanded, she didn’t think life had much meaning anymore. She was twenty-one and she thought that was a sad state of mind.

The girl was Mirajane Strauss and she had lived on exactly three different mantras all her life. The first: _family above all_. When her parents died, her selfish life stopped and her siblings became priority; they were breath and bread and she promised the uncarved stone of their parents’ memorial that Elfman and Lisanna would want for nothing.

Secondly: _keep a lock on your heart._ Protect what mattered by hiding your weakness. For the longest time, Mirajane was not interested in making friends or forming bonds outside of her little family. A futile effort, maybe, but even these days she wasn’t so quick to damn someone by loving them. The She-Devil still had many enemies.

And the most current: _control yourself_. A plea that sprung from those desperate nights when her power was just budding and sense warred with the greedy pulse of the demons in her blood. When other girls were engrossed in acne treatment or heart matters, Mirajane was being torn apart by the angry hands of oblivion and some semblance of constraint. With her most recent acquisition of Sayla, she felt like she was thirteen again, crying and sick on the ground in front of Master after hours of molding the magic inside of her into bars around the souls. These days she supposed she was not very repulsed at herself anymore; the stench of blood from long ago has faded from her skin.

Until she broke and curbed her soul, she would stay here where she could be of no danger to anyone. Some nights she could still see how horrified Elfman and Lisanna looked when she did her first take over.  No, she would be repulsive in peace for at least a little while.

> **_the beauty of fate_ **

Even the queen of demons was only human and she bled. A freak accident with Sayla in her veins, talking cloying charm into her ear: _you should take the knife and plunge it into your flesh. It will be magnificent─ I order you to do it._ Mirajane guessed that was how she woke up in a pool of her own blood and a carving blade embedded deep into her thigh, just under her hipbone.

Biting her lip but steeling herself against crying out (she was sure if one tear spilled it wouldn’t end) as she wrapped her foot in a messy tourniquet that made her dizzy with effort and pain. It would have to do until she ambled to the eerie healer’s croft that she’d seen in passing during supply runs.

Slowly, with every breath wheezing like lead inside her lungs, she took measured steps to the grassy plane where the tiny cottage sat. By the time she reached the door, she felt the next breath pushed through her teeth would be her last. She gripped the old wood of the doorframe and knocked.

An elderly man raised one scruffy brow at her, tired, beady eyes roaming her form to inspect for injury as was his instinct. The blood blooming through her bandage and trailing down her leg so she could leave red footprints through his dirt path was pretty hard to miss.

“Hmph. Get in, stupid girl, you’re bleeding on my moss.” But his hand was gentle under her elbow as he helped her hobble inside.

When her back hit the cool sheets of a cot, her eyes rolled to the back of her head and there was nothing after that.

**_dawn, a soothing sight_ **

“─gonna sleep the whole day or what?”

These were the first words her muddled mind processed. Before she could open her eyes, she felt a brilliant sort of pain coursing through her whole body and she wondered if she was finally dead. She supposed not because resting in peace wasn’t supposed to feel so shitty.

The room was blessedly dark when she coaxed her lids open. Her mind took time aligning her vision. First, she saw pots of plants overhead. Herbs, by the smell of it. Some tarragon and rosemary and lavender rent the air a calming fragrance that was not lost on her medicated self.

Then, she saw Laxus.

Which couldn’t be right.

“I really must be dead.” She murmured to herself, a dainty hand touching her forehead, feeling cold sweat there. Laxus couldn’t be here, as if some sick dream that was further insult to injury. She hadn’t seen anyone from Fairy Tail aside from her siblings in months. There were days her mind told her they were all dead and she was alone like she was meant to be, filthy demon like her.

“Nice. Am I a devil or an angel?” Laxus humored her, his face betraying no emotion.

“I don’t know. You look like a dandelion with muscles.”

Now Laxus’ face screwed up as he watched his former guild mate try to lift her head from her pillow. “Oy, old man, what did you give her? She’s lost her mind.”

Distantly, Mirajane heard a grunt. “Something that should have knocked her out until tomorrow.” The old face that was the last of her memory before passing out came into view. He looked like old leather sagging off bones. “How do you feel?”

Mirajane swayed as she sat up. “Like Vulcan shit, sir.” And to prove her point, she bent over the side of her bed and heaved yesterday’s lunch onto the floor.

She trained her glare on Laxus when she heard him laughing.

> **_a rousing climb_ **

One more sleep had Mirajane feeling well enough to leave on strict orders to lay off her leg. “And eat some damn meat, you’re fragile as a twig.” The old healer barked.

Laxus thought _fragile_ was the last word he’d use to describe Mirajane, injured or not.

Contrary to orders, she insisted on straightening up the bed she’d slept on. While she did so, Laxus found the courage to address the elephant in the room.

“Did you follow me here, Mirajane? What do you think you’re doing here?”

He could see her back straighten one disk at a time, her aura emanating something dark, something he’s only felt when he faced her in her S-Class trials and she showed the glory of her Satan Soul.

“As you saw, I was wounded. Or did you think you were so important that I’d stab my own leg just to see you?” Ice frosted over her tone and Laxus thought if she turned to face him, he would see the glower that still made his organs wonder if they should cease function or not. “I see you’ve reverted to being full of hot air again.”

There was that old snark in her voice that made him just a little bit reflective. “Jesus, who pissed in your coffee? Alright already, I’ll shut up.”

Contradicting his own statement, he spoke again. “Who _did_ stab you in the leg?”

Quiet that was no less edgy settled over them as she folded the bedsheet and wiped antiseptic on the bedside table. Laxus was pulling out a cigarette from his jeans when she spoke again and faced him. “Why are _you_ here?” she asked instead of answering.

He was stoic, but he didn’t notice how his hand with the lighter stilled in front of his face. “That’s none of your business, demon,”

She figured he wouldn’t be so quick to lay his secrets out but his brusqueness ticked her off. The part of her that needed to know everyone’s business warred with the side of her that begged to respect their privacy. Everyone had been through hell in Tartaros. She herself had done some things she couldn’t speak of just to forget those terrors. She still did.

“Well, are you staying in this area?” She could put two and two together. A strong man like him had no patience for the quiet of the countryside. He belonged in the thrum of the city among exotic people and the taste of wild adventure. He was getting treatment from the healer here. Mirajane remember that the last time she saw him, he was forcing breath into his poisoned lungs in the infirmary and she thought that he was brave.

_(And that she loved him.)_

Laxus took the first puff of his cigarette as he watched the Take Over mage carefully. It seemed he wasn’t the only one speaking in measured words to avoid revealing dark secrets. “I’m checked into an inn in the city.  If you ask for specifics on where I’m staying, I’m going to think you want to stay the night.”

A voice screamed into her head to hold her tongue, to not even _think_ about saying what she wanted to, but it was too late and sentimentality thoughtful made her speak. “I have a cottage by the beach. Five minutes from here. You can keep throwing your money away on premium rent or split my reasonable one.” What she left out was that she was lonely, and waking up to an empty house was not something she could ever get used to, that his own face would be a comfort despite anything.

His lips smirked around the orange filter of his cigarette, telling Mirajane that he saw right through her businesslike proposal “If you wanted my company, you don’t need to make it about rent.” Before she could protest, he stood to full height and tossed the butt of his cigarette over his shoulder. He was already walking out the door when Mirajane could formulate a reply. “I’ll collect my stuff and find you. See you real soon, roomie.”

> **_i feel an awful ache_ **

It was true what they said that regret came last. From the moment Laxus knocked on her door and entered her threshold, Mirajane’s nerves felt abused by the disarray that his whole presence came with. His boots were dirty on her mat, his coat thrown carelessly over the weathered umbrella stand. And maybe it was due to her not having any close encounters with other humans in such a stretch of days that his loud voice ground on her gears.

“So which one is my room? Or are we sharing? I can love that if you make the nights warm.” His grin was lightning quick and with the same effect.

She remembered him to be a pervert from before humility and exile forced change on him but she could see now that it wasn’t totally gone. “No. You have the guest room. It’s smaller than what I have.” The last part she said just to spite him and if the downturn of his lips was any indication, it worked. She’d take her jollies anywhere she could get them. “There’s a bathroom at the end of the hall and you have that to yourself. If you’re using pantry items or groceries then I expect you to restock them. I train most of the day and I’d like it if you joined me but that’s up to you.” They used to train together when they were younger, she remembered. When master would tire from teaching her, Laxus would step up to spar. Things were so different back then when they still had a place to call home.

When Laxus left to settle into his room, Mirajane recalled why she insisted on cutting all ties with ex guild members. It really was hard reminiscing on the home they couldn’t return to.

> **_an almost inscrutable drift_ **

She noticed how much harder she’d been training since Laxus moved into her cottage’s guest room. It was always unnerving feeling his eyes on her as she went through the motions of resistance training, then magic conditioning. With no grand effort, she felt ejected to the time when master helped her make the reckless power in her veins into something more pliable and Laxus watched haughtily from the sidelines, completing the young lord persona by calling out the occasional taunt. Even now, he still made a habit of it. “Light on your feet, demon!” or “Back straight, you’re gonna break your hip like that,” were the common “encouragements” he liked to cry from the patio from where he watched her.

Today, he would first witness her new soul.

Laxus had settled in a fortnight ago but it was only now that Mirajane would allow him to behold Sayla, tempestuous and chaotic little thing. No one had seen the full take over yet. Even with Elfman and Lisanna, Mirajane had been careful not to attempt a transformation when they were in near vicinity. Now she thought that Laxus could handle her going berserk, if anyone could.

She stood where the beach met the open grassland, a rough, rocky terrain under her bare feet and salty wind against her face. Mirajane was dripping in sweat from the earlier workout but the physical strain of that would be nothing compared to the stress of wrangling Sayla’s disinclined soul. Willing the steady flow of energy through her lungs, then her gut, she let her blood summon the demon. Bright light surrounded her slight form, blinding Laxus until it ebbed and Pretty Mira gave way to something different, something terrifying.

Perhaps he too was quick to be sentimental. The familiar feeling of dread settled into his belly at the sight of her transmuted, reminding him how scared shitless he got when they were younger and she employed her first Satan Soul. The waves of death and darkness used to make him feel miserable and hopeless despite his younger self’s cocky façade. Now, very little has changed.

He swallowed past a lump in his throat as he witnessed Mirajane’s new form raise a hand and gather a ball of energy, levelling it against the formation of boulders by the shore and desecrating it to nonexistence. She seemed satisfied at the stable power so she made her way to the cottage without shedding her current form. Her legs didn’t look like they touched the ground, an eerie sight. Laxus felt sweat bead on his brow when Mirajane stopped in front of the house (in front of him) and grinned that shit-eating grin he remembered from her punkish youth. “Spar with me?”

Even though his bones wanted to shake, he assented.

His muscles were cold but that was easy to remedy with the fire he kindled in his gut. His own power had a hasty charging time and faster than a clap of thunder, he was filled to the brim with static and lightning, ready to rupture.

Saying nothing, Mirajane aimed her biological death ray at him, probably not intending to kill but still a terrifying view. Laxus easily dodged, kicking his feet into the dirt and propelling himself skyward in an impressive leap. Momentarily sky borne, he called a discharge of lightning from previously absent storm clouds overhead, directing the dancing bolts through his system, then down where Mirajane stood. As expected, the surge hit the mark. And unexpectedly, a dome of black energy shielded her, absorbing the lightning and sapping a tiny bit still clinging to Laxus’ heart.

Back on the ground, he stood firmly on his feet, surrounding himself in negative charge ready to lead through the air between them and knock Mirajane out. In an almost instinctual way, as if the lightning protected him on their own will, a blinding length of it shot out when he saw Mirajane lunging towards him with her arm outstretched, claws painted with poison ready to bite into skin.

The shock of energy danced over the flesh of her torso. But even as she screamed and shivered from the onslaught of his power, her fingers clamped around his windpipe, too small to encircle his neck but effective in grabbing what it could. Laxus choked on a breath. He looked right into Mirajane’s still blue eyes as he wheezed for air and she trembled from mad lightning playing a war inside her body.

His hands gripped her forearm, as if to tell her to stop. He could feel his energy draining too quickly, the assault of her magic riling up the damned particles that still wreaked havoc in his system.

Mirajane’s face looked dead, and Laxus had a moment to think she would murder him just like that.

He watched some unidentifiable shift play across her features. All too suddenly, Mirajane’s eyes went from ice to something molten when she loosened her hold on him and sprung back as if singed. Just as quick, she lost her transformation. Mirajane sat two steps away from him, back in her training gear, looking frightened of what had transpired. When Laxus coughed and doubled over, she was back at his side.

“I’m sorry, that was a mistake. I─” she began, but was cut off by more violent hacking. Her gasp of distress rang in his ears with the sound of his pulse when he spat out a healthy mouthful of blood.

“I’m sorry!” she cried again. “What hurts? Do you want me to call the healer?”

Laxus swiped his forearm against his lips, spitting out the last bitter taste of bile and blood on the ground. “Help me inside. I’ll be fine.”

> **_to brave a stagnancy_ **

It was always cold after a thunderstorm. Natural or Laxus-induced, a cold front would always follow after great light danced in the skies. This was something Mirajane noticed after years spent in his company, something even her siblings would point out because when Laxus trained during warm summer nights, something chilly lingered in the air, a blessed reprieve from the sweltering heat no one wanted to sleep in. Once, he’d explained the science of it to her talking for a whole hour about the things he learned from school and more he read in books.

Right now watching him sleep fitfully, she couldn’t remember what he preached about the push and pull of hot and cold air, the magic of convection.

Mirajane made to close the windows against the cold front blowing gently into Laxus’ bedroom until his low voice stopped her. “The air is still charged with static.” Is all he said, meaning she should leave it alone so that he could bask in it. That it made him feel better.

“Do you want anything to eat?” Mirajane asked as she walked away from the window and approached his bed again. She’d been keeping faithful vigil by him since he collapsed on the bed. For hours she watched him toss and turn, uncomfortable in his own body. Even now that he woke, the lines between his brows didn’t lessen.

Laxus shook his head, still too sick to stomach anything.

Mirajane sat by the foot of his bed, looking repentant and down. “I really am sorry, Laxus. I─ Sayla, I mean. She’s a new soul. She hates me and I can’t control her that well yet.” Her eyes hardened, boring holes into the floor in front of her. Now it seemed she spoke to herself more than he. “It won’t happen again. You have my word.”

Laxus grunted, waving her concerns off with a dismissive gesture. “Knock it off, Mira. I can take an ass-kicking. You know I hate it when you pull the sorrowful martyr bull.” He could never stand anyone feeling sorry for themselves. In regards to Mirajane, her sadness just made him downright uncomfortable.

Mirajane said nothing to that. It was hardly an act, but Laxus never really got over the idea that the change Mirajane went through when she erected a grave for her sister was genuine. He always insisted that the sour, wretched Mirajane still hid under the docile one.

“Are you still sick?” was her sudden question. All night she burned to ask why his reaction to her had been that awful. They’d sparred more violently before and he walked away with a slight limp at worst. “From Tartaros. You were in pretty bad shape─”

From where he sat propped up against the headboard, Laxus stiffened. “Shut up, Mira. I said I’m fine.”

Admonished, she left it at that. “Okay. I’m going to have dinner. I hope you’ll eat with me.”

> **_twilight comes to greet the night_ **

Another week passed, full of trepidation and quiet that grated on the inhabitants of the cottage. Mirajane tiptoed on eggshells now, a fact Laxus swallowed with no little annoyance. In the morning he heard her sing as she made breakfast only to be immediately cut off when she heard the door of his room open, followed by his impressive footsteps. It was a bit sick how she could never look him in the eye for more than a passing glance.

When she trained, he left her alone. One afternoon he tried to join her but her blows were weak. She never attacked until he did and when she did, it was as half-hearted as their current co-existence. At some point, he got fed up at being treated like glass. When he walked away, he cursed her unneeded gentleness and the poison in his gut. She never used Sayla ever since.

 Dinners together were awkward.

While Mirajane picked at her food between bites, Laxus let his heavy gaze land on her. The atmosphere was hostile with Mirajane waiting for him to snap and Laxus and him waiting for her to do the same.

She broke first, slamming her utensils against the clay plates. “Do you want a picture or something?”

Laxus’s facial expression gave no shift. “Will that picture tell me why the fuck you’re acting like some meek animal?”

Her face colored as he sipped wine. “I’m not acting like anything!”

“Sure you are. You think I’m one of those terrified village idiots who cower at your power.” For the first time since he sat down, he had an appetite. Deliberately, he sliced into the venison on his plate. “I was rusty and you slammed my ass good. Big fucking deal. But I hardly ran you out of the village with a mob. I’m not delicate, demon, and I don’t want you treating me that way.”

The many insinuations of her past let shame bubble under her skin. For a while, she regretted sharing those intimate details of her past with him from when they were younger and she thought he’d be the king of her world. “You’re sick. Of course I’m going to feel bad about that. I’m being considerate of your condition, not trying to insult you. Learn the difference.” Rusty was not the word she’d use. He was obviously sick and it became more evident with each passing day. An unhealthy yellow still ran a cradle under his eyes and he was asleep more than he was awake. Seeing the strongest man she knew in a meager state was no small amount of heartbreaking.

He took his time chewing his steak, even running a commentary in his mind. _Good spice rub, just the right amount of tough and tender. Could be a bit more charred._ “So what if I am? I can still leave you as a smear on the pavement in this condition.”

Mirajane shook her head. While Laxus found his hungriness, she lost hers. “You’re so full of yourself that you still think this is about strength. It’s not. Laxus, please─” On the precipice of desperate, her hand shot out across the table to grip his. “I’m just worried about you. The last time I saw Freed he still couldn’t walk. What are you doing to take care of yourself?”

Stunned by the sudden contact, Laxus couldn’t decide between drawing back or letting the warmth of his hand run through his. What _had_ he been doing? He saw the healer twice a week but the old man couldn’t conjure up a cure or heal him with magic. “Do you think if there was anything I could do, I wouldn’t have done it already? I don’t want to be this pathetic, Mirajane. I’ve been through seven cities just to find this nut job who specializes in demon magic. I’ve been drinking all sorts of shit from quacks and doctors. I even tried that bullshit herbal cleansing from Iceberg. So don’t you imply for one second that I’m letting this thing eat me from the inside out.” When Mirajane opened her mouth, he barked out, “And don’t you dare apologize.”

Her lips pressed into a line. “Then let me help you. I don’t want you snapping at me when I’m trying to do that. This is nothing to be ashamed about.”

Maybe it was the gentle pressure in his hand that made the protests die in his mouth and his head to nod. Their meal was finished in silence but Mirajane was noticeably smiling after that.

> **_stroke the fire to keep it kindling_ **

Taking care of Laxus was not as easy as she expected. Not that she presumed he would be perfectly willing in the first place. She knew that he was a bull-headed man, unaccustomed to accepting help even though he promised to tolerate it. When Mirajane chanced upon him gasping for breath, folded at the waist over a dead tree stump after his own rigorous training, she rushed to his side with panicked babbling (“What’s wrong?”, “Are you okay?”, “Do I call the healer?”). When he shook her off, she tried to ignore the puddle of blood by his feet and the line of it dripping down his chin.

“Come inside now. It’s almost dark.”

His weight slumped over her slight form was a burden she’d gladly carry. Mirajane helped him up the patio and back inside his room so he could get changed for dinner. Once he was settled on the bed, still breathing too irregularly for her tastes, she went to his cabinets for a new shirt. She startled when his hand reached over hers, taking the clothing before she could draw it out. She hadn’t even heard his footsteps.

“Mira, stop fussing. I’m okay.” Because he saw the glisten of tears over her eyes, his voice gentled. He pried the shirt from her hands. “Stop crying over me, alright?” The thought of her doing so left a bitter taste in his mouth. Not that long ago, some sordid thrill ran through his bones at the sight of her distress. Now it choked him.

“I can’t help it. I love you, Laxus. I hate seeing you in pain.” Her very essence was in this man, and she could do nothing for him. She was not conditioned to helplessly witness the deterioration of someone she cared for.

The confession was easy, nothing that took any prompting, words that her tongue didn’t trip over. So natural and genuine, it made his heart clench. She loved him, and it was a wonderful, petrifying thing. He didn’t deserve her love, but that wasn’t up to him. Still, she shouldn’t love a man as good as dead.

In answer, he brushed his lips over hers; more tenderness, that easy press of his mouth over hers, the placid lick of tongue and the calm breath he breathed into her mouth. Her sigh was wistful when he drew away. He wished he could tell her the same; it was he who stumbled over the words.

“I’ll go take a shower.”

> **_me, you, and our beautiful stasis_ **

They didn’t share a bed any time soon after that. Life together proceeded at their regular pace, though perhaps more timid and wrapped in the gossamer cloud of bliss. It was easier to care for him with her feelings between them. Laxus became easily acquiescent to her fretting and more responsible in handling his own body. Gone was the desire to push himself to breaking point and Mirajane welcomed the prospect of not having to clean up anymore blood on the ground.

On the other hand, Laxus was more amenable to her touch.

She didn’t know why it felt like a victory when Laxus began joining her at the couch after dinner when she read her book. First he only watched the lacrima-vision. Then, perhaps unconsciously on his part, he leaned onto her side without any prompt or fuss. Before Mirjane could make a big deal out of it, it became routine for her legs to end up on his lap after a long day. Soon, it progressed to them falling asleep beside each other on that beat up couch.

It was no bed, but that would come soon after.

Not that far ahead, actually.

The night they came from a trade festival that happened in the city, they came home in a mist of ecstasy. For Mirajane, it was seeing the simple way he smiled when she pushed dessert after dessert on him and he ate it just to mollify her. On Laxus’ end, it was the memory of Mirajane’s eyes lighting up when the fireworks lit up the night sky. He’d never bought into clichés before her but he knew that vision of her saturated in the explosions of color was one that would haunt him forever, in the best way possible.

When they got home, he kissed her. And when he kissed her, she didn’t let him stop there. The night had been long before they ended up on her bed and he made sure he told her he loved her before sleep claimed her.

> **_so we plummet_ **

One morning, he woke up to her reading a letter on the dining table. She looked distressed, that much he could tell, even though the lines on her forehead and the downturn of her lips was subtle. Not wanting to disturb her, he set about making breakfast, trying to dispel the worry building in his gut because Mirajane was being awfully quiet. By the time he set a plate in front of her (three sunny side up eggs and almost burnt sausages per plate, the best he could do under any circumstance), she had tucked the letter back into the envelope and was pouring tea into their cups.

“Is everything good?” he asked after a stretch of silence when she didn’t volunteer any information.

Mirajane looked distracted when she looked up to regard him. Her mouth opened, then closed as if she was unsure if she wanted to tell him or not. “Maybe later. What are you doing today?”

He could tell when someone was trying to change the subject so he let it go. Mirajane wouldn’t hide anything detrimental. He trusted her not to.

When night fell and both of them retired to her bed as was routine these days, she was still a silent thing. He wondered if she was measuring what to tell him. When she finally slipped under the sheets beside him and allowed her hands to wander he was still unsure about what plagued her. Though that didn’t last long─ soon he was naked as she and their passions were spent.

Just when he was dozing off, he heard the tiny sounds of sobs and felt her slight shivers. “Tell me what’s wrong.” He said, voice both firm and reassuring. His arms turned her until she faced him and immediately her face buried in the crook of his neck. He could feel wetness there, a heartbreaking kind of warmth.

“Oh, Laxus,” her tone was miserable, a garbled mess against his skin. The nails of her fingers dug into the meat of his back. “I have to leave. I don’t know if I can do that.”

His lungs was retarded of breath and he was sure his heart was somewhere in the pits of his stomach. Mirajane leaving was something unheard of. While Laxus followed the call of wanderlust, Mirajane was the one who stayed, a constant, a dependable home. He didn’t think it would be any different now. “Why?” was the only thing he could manage but he wanted it back as soon as he said it. He wasn’t sure he wanted to hear the answer.

“Elfman and Lisanna miss me. They asked me to go back with them to Magnolia for the guild’s rebuilding. They’re my family, Laxus. I promised our parents we’d always be together.” She made pitiful whining noises against his neck. His hands automatically moved to soothe. He had no strong loyalties to his own family but he could understand love when he saw it. He wondered where that left him, though. “Home is there, Laxus.”

What she didn’t say but he heard all the same: _It’s here with you, too. Come with me._

His thumb rubbed calming circles on her lower back. Slowly, her crying abated but not the unease in his heart. “I can’t go back, Mira. Not yet.” He had so much to get done before his soul could settle into a home with her. “I have to get better. Then I’ll find you. I always do. I’ll see you again. Fairy Tail is my home, too.” His promise was said with the linking of their hands.  He wouldn’t ask her to stay. To tear her apart from her family would be a cruelty even he wasn’t capable of. But he could make good on his feelings. For once, he could do something good for her.

“Marry me, Mira. I want to be your husband when we see each other again.” Being with her the past few months had made him complacent to the concept of the two of them against everyone else, a quiet life spent in the seaside and all ties to the painful past forgotten as time ran. Plans were not his thing but he’d been thinking about forever with her for quite some time now.  And they could start that forever, even miles apart.

> **_to build a foundation_ **

They married in a church outside of town with only the priest as their witness. The vows were short and no rings were exchanged, the pair of them needing no confirmations of their love, sated with just the feelings that swelled in them. Mirajane wore a plain dress that danced around her ankles, ivory to offset her pale hair. Laxus’ eyes stung when he saw her and the tears he’d been careful to hold back slipped when she kissed him as his new wife. Mirajane teased him all about it on the walk back home.

She was scheduled to return to her siblings the next morning, a fact easily forgotten when the newlyweds disrobed and came to bed. Throughout the night, Laxus couldn’t count how many times he’s had to wipe away her tears or his own or how he quietened her trembling mouth with kisses. As he shared his warmth with her, he felt her lips flutter against the scar on his brow; solace he didn’t know he needed. When they exhausted their lust, he watched his wife will air back into her lungs; her fringe matted on her forehead and the whole of her a beautiful, aching sight he would keep until they met again.

> **_i dream of you in my arms again_ **

Magnolia was not as satisfying as she remembered it to be. She supposed the landscape was the same, the vendors who she knew by name still sold their familiar wares, the birds called at dependable times and the flowers bloomed the same as every other year. Her small family home was still there, dusty but otherwise good. None of it was enough to fulfill that void that festered in her with each passing day. Maybe it was because there was a crater where the guild used to be. Maybe it was because Laxus still hadn’t returned.

Her extended family worked tirelessly to restore the physical structure of their headquarters. Meeting old friends was a delight that eased some of her anguish and basking in familiar camaraderie with them was a kindness on her heart.

Still, she proceeded cautiously. She thought that even Lisanna was noticing how glum she looked sometimes and how slow she was to smile at something that would have amused her with no trouble before all of this happened. But Mirajane didn’t feel the same now and it would have been a farce to pretend that she wasn’t the changed woman she was. Yet she tried. It wasn’t just her siblings depending on her to smile.

When Gajeel boasted his plans to reunite team B and search for Laxus, Mirajane’s entire demeanor changed in a snap even thought her heart had stopped beating at the suggestion. She tried not to damn her overabundance of happiness at the expectation of seeing again the man she secretly wed.

Once travel commenced, worry was quick to seep into the confines of her euphoria. Laxus hadn’t written her anything since they parted. She wondered if she ought to tell everyone that she knew him to be living in that cottage where they nurtured a love but vetoed the idea because Gajeel seemed to have a solid inkling to where the Thunder God prowled the couple of months since their parting. In the hot springs, there was talk that her husband had banded with Blue Pegasus and while the forthcoming thought of him as a host made her sides hurt, she was wary of the thought that he was well enough to work again.

She just wondered why he never wrote her, that was all.

> **_call me home to you_ **

Finding him with Ichiya’s help was easy enough. Upon entry of Blue Pegasus, she was relieved at finding him there, looking put upon by the women that sat around him and Bickslow and not away on some of the crazy training sabbaticals Ichiya told her about.

As if he sensed her presence, his eyes traveled to where she stood with the rest of her guild mates. Mirajane’s heartbeat ran to a staccato when Laxus approached their group, followed by his team.

“We’re here to drag you back home.” Was all Mirajane said to him in the presence of others. Her hand itched to reach for him. _Later,_ she told herself.

Later came when they stopped for a much needed rest. When everyone scattered to partake in happy hour, Laxus’ eyes met hers again and he cocked his head minimally towards the staircase that lead to the second landing. She let him disappear first. When she saw that no one was paying them any heed, she slipped away from the booth she shared with the Raijinshuu and Cana and as inconspicuously as she could, followed to where Laxus waited.

On the end of the staircase was her husband, looking tense with anticipation. When she was near enough, he grabbed her hand and led her to the room she presumed was his. The quiet sound of a bolt lock homing in was deafening in her ears. A second passed, followed by a minute. Then, they were ravenous.

Articles of clothing were discarded on a trail to the bed. Hands were clumsy pawing off the heavy skirt of her dress and fumbling with the buttons of his shirt. Mirajane’s breath came out wobbly when she felt his lips kiss a fire onto every bit of skin he uncovered. When they joined, a sob tore from her lips but she had no time to dwell on whether or not the party downstairs was privy to all the noise she was making. Laxus also shook as he took her.

“I missed you,” she said when she lay on top of him afterwards, watching the rise and fall of his chest and listening to the hammering of his pulse. She brushed her lips against the black ink on his skin, ending in the place where his guild mark used to be. “Every day I thought about going back to that cottage and just being with you.”

His hand was still tangled in her hair, gentle now as opposed to the almost painful way he used it to tug her head back so he could lick and bite at her throat. “We’ll be home soon. The wait won’t matter then.”

When they made their way downstairs, they separated as if nothing happened. Nobody needed to know about them. Not yet, at least. They would be selfish about their love for now, the only ones happy for their union.

Cana noticed her descend with Laxus and the rows of bruises that looked suspiciously like bite marks on her neck. “Naughty, naughty, Mirajane. Getting a quickie in when everyone’s hammered. Remember when you told me banging someone in the guild was a no-no?”

 _Not when he’s your husband,_ Mirajane almost sang but she smiled instead. Observing Cana’s level of drunk, it was clear she wouldn’t remember this in the morning.

When they finally had to leave to answer a distress call from a retrieval mission gone wrong, Ichiya lent them his great flying ship for speedier transport. During the overnight journey, Mirajane discovered just how fun it was to have sex in the helm of Christina with the other passengers dozing off in the mess.

“Has being a host made my husband an exhibitionist?” Mirajane asked. Laxus quite liked how she called him that, especially in that secretive tone of hers.

Morning couldn’t come too quickly and on the horizon was Alvarez. Even from their vantage point in the skies, it was evident how much destruction was ongoing. Sentiment made a fool out of Laxus who stood by the open air and summoned a magnificent explosion right on the enemy to spare his grandfather and his friends.

“We’re not running away. Just going home.” Those were the loveliest words she’d ever heard him say.

**Author's Note:**

> I can never come up with a headcanon where Laxus does anything super romantic to propose to Mirajane. It’s always such a straightforward, sensible proposal. I want sappy Miraxus proposal damn it!!!! Also please tell me if there’s something wrong in this. I can’t be fucked to proofread anything and I wrote 9 of 13 parts of this in one sitting fueled by afternoon cocktails.


End file.
